Fire Emblem: Feeding the Fire
by Dark Glass01
Summary: Raven could take life as mercenary , if it weren't for one thing; he hated travel food. I just happen to know how to cook things. When a freak accident sends me into the Elibe, I become the cook for a ever-growing band of hungry wanderers; many of whom happen to be familer faces, working to make a living and bring justice to the Ilia/Etruria border. Takes place prior to Lyn's story
1. Prologue: What the Blazes?

**Author Notes: These are going to be short, sweet, and to the point. Mostly because I have to write this whole thing in one sitting. **

**See my profile if you want to know why I'm not updating anything else right now.**

**This story contains self-insert of a non-marty-sue variety (Name is changed, as I do not wish to reveal my real name, but I'm asking myself; what would I do?) . I do not own any of the settings, characters, objects, or concepts from Fire Emblem 6 or 7 which appear in this story. I do own myself, a modest handful of OC's (as this is not a retelling of the story), a copy of FE 7, and the bag of poorly-made granola which gave me the idea for this fic. **

**The first section of this story is written before the events of Lyn's story and was written in one sitting.**

I'd had some pretty weird and scary moments in my life, but if I had to say, this arguably won the top spot in both categories by a landslide. When it happened, I was almost certain I was dreaming; this just wasn't the sort of thing which happened anymore, and even if it did, it looked a lot different from a pair of crude, pitted axes at your throat, so close I didn't dare shiver even with the cold winds and my less-then appropriate attire. The two men who were holding said axes, however, were closer to the sort I expected; angular features, filthy and unkept hair, and rather poor dental work. Of course, I wasn't about to point that out right now; all I could do was stand there, eyes wide in shock and throat dry.

However, my mind was still racing, filled with questions. However, most could be summed down to this; What the blazes was going on? It hadn't been more than two minutes ago that I'd been sitting comfortably on my bed, wide awake in a set of plaid sleeping pants and a white t-shirt. I'd been having trouble getting to sleep; it was probably just an hour too late for that Diet Coke, and so I'd popped out my cartrage of Fire Emblem, made myself a delicious turkey sandwich, and decided I'd stay up a few more hours. Next thing I knew, without warning other than a strange shaking of my body, I was standing in the middle of what looked like a group campsite , a few brown and grey tents scattered in a crude circle around the smoldering remains of a campfire , set within a small clearing. The sudden change had caused me to gasp, and before I knew it the two men had emerged from the conifers, coming at me from both sides.

So yes, I was speechless.

The man standing in front of me, however, seemed to have more words then I did. " What kinda magics do you think yur pulling?" His voice was rough, but what really carried the power was his breath; tainted with what had to be rotten meat.

I felt the butt of the other's axe on my thigh as he spoke too, his voice sounding noticeably better then the other's. "He has to be mage, soft as he is. And mages tend to have lots of money…"

My tongue tried to form a response, but by this point, the shock was starting to fade out into terror. The words just wouldn't come out right, and all I ended up saying was "I'm not…" I couldn't even begin to hide the fear, and the bandit shifted slightly closer, the furs he wore shifted from what had to be massive arms.

"Yur not what?" He demanded, the tip of the ax head pressing against my chin. "Not a mage, or not rich?" The wind picked up for a moment, tossing small snowflakes into my face as he stared me down, feeling as though my body was suddenly shrinking.

"He's got to be a mage." His partner concluded, reaching down and grabbing the Gameboy advance from the ground. "We just saw him teleport into camp, and he's got this little glowing talisman with him." The two of them stared intently at the machine for a moment, trying to comprehend it as I silently thanked the second one for pulling his axe away.

"It's like nothin I've ever seen…" the first man mused , keeping his weapon in place even as I leaned away slightly, feeling the small cut at the base of my chin. He seemed to catch something in the corner of his eye, reaching down to grab the now slightly soggy sandwich from the snow, bringing it up to his nose to sniff. "And this smells like good eats. You're a strange one…" His previously ferocious gaze was softened by something else; a distinct curiosity, which made me feel more at ease, my throat loosening enough for me to finally get out a coherent sentence.

"That's a sandwich, Sir." I answered quickly, trying to be polite. "And that's a Gamebody. You're welcome to them." That solicited a chuckle from the second man, who prodded my again, harder, pushing me back into an upright position.

"This one's really something, comparing us to honest knights." They both had a short laughing session together, the deep, hearty sound actually warming to the soul, even if I could still feel the cold seeping in under all that adrenaline. "He must have made some mistake with his teleporting, if he expected to meet knights."

"But that's lucky for us!" The other nudged him in the elbow. "Now we can say the Jigh Bandits are so ferocious they can catch prey even when watching camp!" He took a huge bite out of the sandwich before he continued, rolling it around on his tongue before taking a mighty swallow, an unexpected purr coming from his throat. "And maybe we can make more of these sandwiches, they taste good!"

"Bandits?" I questioned without thinking, my thoughts still jumbled as I tried to wrap my mind around what exactly was going on.

I could swear the two of them looked each other in the eye at that moment, although I was distracted by the cold and my eyes were still on the ax which, even if it had drifted about half a foot from my throat, was still too close for comfort. "Guess this one's not local. Else he'd be trembling at the name."

"But he is trembling." His partner pointed out, using his free hand to grab my arm. "But still, his cloths aren't local. Tell me," his grip was extremely rough, certainly more than I could ever break from. "Where are you from? Ilia? Eturia? Bern?" He shook me a bit there, my soaked socks loosing their footing in the snow and sending me falling forward, saved only as I was forcefully snapped back my his grip. Yet, during that split second, his words finally manged to attach to something in my mind. _Ilia, Eturia, Bern... is he talking about the game?_ Under the sound of the flapping tents, I could still hear the soft music coming from the Gameboy, eyes half closed as I looked into my breath, trying to come to further explain that revelation. _This is just a dream... yes, I must have fallen asleep. Once I wake up everything will be just fine. _Still, my dreams were never felt this real...

The iron grip of the second bandit on my arm became too much to bear though, as he twisted at the skin, and after setting myself back on my own feet, toes still freezing in the snow, I gave an answer. "Lyncia." My words shook as I fought a losing battle against the cold, the bandits seeming to handle it just fine. "Pord Badon of Lycia." Honestly, it was just the first thing that came to my mind; my favorite chapter of the game, but the two seemed to accept it as fair, leaving me free to rub the sore spot on my arm.

"Eh, I guess it don't matter." The first bandit hefted his ax, letting out a heavy sigh. "What do you think Yellt? Should I kill him?"

My heart skipped a beat as my eyes met his, goosebumps forming on my arms for an entirely different reason then they had before, hand clenching into a fist. "Um, is that really nessicery?" I cautioned meekly as I took a step back, only to bump into the second bandit's (Yellt, apparently) back. "I mean, what are you really accomplishing here? It'd just be a wasted effort." What was coming out of my mouth was honestly non-thinking babble, numbness biting into me as the cold sweat started freezing on my skin. My eyes darted back and forth, back and forth, looking for some sort of escape. Yellt dropped his ax to the ground and wrapped his arms around my chest, pressing me against his body to the point where it was almost hard to breath. If this was a dream, it was turning into a nightmare very fast, as Yellt seemed to be to actually be considering the opinion, judging by his hums.

Every sense in my body was on high alert, scanning the surroundings for something, anything, that could get me out of this. It was only because of that that heard it; the rustle of pine needles from behind the first bandit, followed by muffled footfalls, crunching slightly in the snow. I couldn't see what was making that noise, thanks to the massive man in my way, but judging from the way Yellt stopped his thinking noise and released his grip on me, I knew it was good. Just as I took in a deep breath of sharp air, the pace of the footsteps picked up rapidly, Yellt, giving a warning growl to his companion as he reached down for the ax, me fumbling forward and landing on my hands and knees, reacting rather than thinking. I spent what had to have been only a second down there, before I heard what was probably going to be a shout from the bandit above me, only to hear it fade out into a gurgle, a bit of something warm and sticky falling onto the back of my neck.

I turned up my face to see what was going on, only to see a clean hole through the center of the bandit's throat, his eyes slowly fading as he started to fall down towards me. Instinct taking over, I tried to roll out of the way of the boulder of the man, but my muscles, stiff from cold, refused to obey fast enough, a the sound of snapping wood accompanying the blunt force on my back, elbows giving out and landing me so quickly into the snow that I must have breathed some in. Yet, just as I thought it was over, I felt the body press down on my one more time, much less forceful, and the ring of metal on metal, Yellt howling something unintelligible from my position under the bandit which had just tried to kill me.

If dreams have meanings, I sure as taxes don't want to know what this one meant.

I slowly sloughed the corpse from on top of me , apparently unnoticed as the the ringing, thumping, and occasional grunting or hissing continued unabated. My vision slightly hazy, I managed to catch another figure land a clean strike with some sort of sword down the length of Yellt's arm, the bandit flinching back as he held out his ax defensibly. "Gahh, why did I have to draw guard duty today?" He complained allowed as the other figure; distinctly male and with red hair in a slightly short cut not that much different from my own, stood watching with a long sword over his shoulder. "Once my brothers get back here, you're in for a good beating." With that, Yellt darted off into the trees, leaving the camp behind.

Quite frankly, I was amazed at how well things were turning out. Yes, everything was either numb or sore, and I still had next to no idea of what was going on but, I was still alive, which is more then I would have said if you'd asked me about this scenario anytime before. I looked at my savior, who was sliding his sword back into a long, noble-like waist sheath. He wore a long, militaresque greatcoat, faded purple and a bit tattered around the edges, with a leather undercoat peaking out from the short sleeves. His eyes were a darker red then his hair, hinted slightly with amber, but hard. He obviously knew what he was doing, and I was thankful for that... but now was not the time to

I took a few steps in his direction, offering out a hand in peace. "Thank you, Sir." I gave a grateful smile, my face not feeling quite as bad as the more handled parts of myself.

The man just kept looking the same way he had before, though he did approach, his arms folded over his chest. "Don't call he sir," he ordered coldly. "My name is Raven, and I was just doing my job."

"Raven..." I mulled it over in my tired brain, trying it out for size on my tongue. _Why does that sound... oh!_ My delayed reaction finally kicked in. _Right, this is a Fire Emblem dream, silly me. _"I'm Traton. I'm a little lost."

Raven was silent for a few moments, before he started walking towards one of tents. "We can talk after I've done my job. Be useful and empty out another one." With that, he slipped into the first of the tents. Tired and, to be honest, a bit intimidated, I set out to do his command, opening up the flaps of the nearest tent, crawling inside and pulling together a bunch of different items. To be honest, this place looked like a terrible mess, and reeked of alcohol. I took the crude fur sleeping bag in the center and used it as a sack, dumping in undrunken bottles of something brownish, stray coins, some ornaments of animal parts and semi-precious stones, and a whole bunch of other junk that was strewn about. I might have missed something valuable, but I didn't care; I just wanted to get somewhere else, preferably with fire and a soft surface, so I propped the half-filled sack up on my shoulder and stepped back out into the wind. Raven emerged a few moments later, his sack more heavily laden then mine and, without a word, set off.

I took a few steps after him before stopping myself, cradling my forehead in my free hand as a strong headache started to come onto me. Raven, however, didn't stop, and I soon found myself following again, impolite or not. It couldn't have been that long of a walk; half a mile or so, max, but by the time I finally caught up with him, kicking up the bottom of a covered fire pit next to a lean to proped on a giant fallen trunk, I was taking my breathes in shallow gasps, feeling like I wanted to just lie down and sleep for a full day. He gave me a look as I came into the camp, tossing on a set of firewood from a small pile next to the trunk for the growing fire before crawling under the lean to. The gentle glow of the fire was so inviting that I fell down on my knees once I got close, the heat growing stronger as it took to bigger and bigger logs. For a few minutes, I was dead to the world, feeding my bodies insatiable need to get warm.

Then, I was rudely drawn back by the sound of somebody hitting the ground in front of me, and Raven's face was soon looking into mine from the other side of the fire, a small loaf of bread in his hands. "So," he said above a small pop from the fire. "What were you doing in a bandit camp?"

He cut straight to the point, that much I could tell. Of course, if he was the same Raven from the game, that wouldn't surprise me. "I'm not sure." I gave the honest answer, my teeth having finally stopped chattering. "I was home and then, somehow, I was there. I'm just lucky you came along." I placed my palms up to the fire, trying to discern something, anything, on Raven's face.

"It wasn't anything," Raven responded, afterwards taking a large bite off his bread and chewing it. It was then I noticed something; his expression changed to having just a hint of disgust, as if he was struggling to keep the stuff in his mouth before swallowing it. "Count Reglay hires men to look after his border with Ilia. I took his coin, and those bandits were threatening his peace. Not much else to it."

"Well, thanks anyway." I said as he took another bite. There it was again; that little change. "You don't like that bread, do you?" I asked, getting a strange look from him in response.

"You noticed," he shrugged as I said it, tossing a few more sticks onto the fire. "Ya, it stinks. Journey bread. The inside's wet and sticky, but it stays good." He gave a little sigh before he reluctantly continued. "I'd eat better if I could, but this is what I can get."

"Well, couldn't you just toast it then?" I suggested, the solution just jumping to my head. Raven, curiously glancing at the bread, then me, then back again jabbed the bread onto the end of a sturdy stick and started to rotate it over the fire, the inner liquids starting to steam out of the bread after a minute or so.

Once it was done, a darker shade of brown then before, Raven took a bite off the end, the crunching sound noticeable before he swallowed it, nodding once. "Good idea." He complimented, taking another. "You a cook where you come from?"

I felt a bit embarrassed as he said that, twiddling my thumbs. It was true; one of my home hobbies is cooking; I just loved complicated food more then I could get them. I didn't like to reveal that fact though; after all, cooking was hardly a manly art. Still, if this was a dream, what harm could it do? "You could say that," I revealed, wiping away the mucus that was about to run down my nose. "I can make a lot of things. Stews, casseroles, meats, fillets." I couldn't help but chuckle at how stupid I sounded right now, talking to a mercenary about food.

Raven interrupted my laughter with with words of his own. "Well then, I guess you can stay with me for now."

"What?" the word left my mouth before I could even think it through.

Raven finished off the last of his toasted bread before continuing. "I still have a three days before I head back to Etruria and report on my work. You try to walk back through the mountains unarmed and untrained, you'll be dead before sunset. You cook what I bring back, carry some spoils, and I'll escort you to civilization. Or, take your chances."

This was probably the worst time in the world to realize this, but I reached up to scratch my chin, I felt the pain of the scratch there once again, and stumbled upon a rather disturbing conclusion.

_I shouldn't be feeling this kind of pain in a dream_

Still, whatever was going on, I only had one option that made any sense.

"You have a deal."

**Afterword: Alright, this is pretty solid work. **

**Don't worry; Raven won't be the only character involved in this. Other familiar faces from the FE universe will have reasons was wandering around northern Elibe too, and may just join Raven's little troop. **

**Read, Reveiw, and Respire**


	2. Chp I: The Troubles Begin

**Author Notes: I swear upon my honor that, before I depict myself preparing any dish in this story, I will insure I can prepare the dish myself. **

**Also, please do not take any explanations I give as cannon. **

**[Insert stock disclaimer here]**

***Fire Emblem 7 Chapter Start sound bit* Chp. I: The Troubles Begin. **

Where was I?

I woke up the next morning not sure where I was. Even with my mind groggy as it was, I could still tell this wasn't where I was used to waking up. The blankets over me where too thin and scratchy, whatever surface I was on hard and cold. Heck, it even _smelled _wrong, the air tinged with something salty and oily. Groaning, I rolled around in place, trying to get the morning ache out of my muscles, eyes clenched shut. However long I'd been asleep, it clearly hadn't been long enough. Maybe I could just slip my head under the pillow, grab another hour or so of shuteye.

A kick to the thighs, however, told me that wasn't going to be an option. Out of reflex, I kicked back weakly at the assault, trying to tell its owner to leave me be. However, whomever it was simply kicked again, harder than before, and I found myself pushing myself up into a sitting position, stretching my back before opening my eyes. "What is it?" I grumbled sleepily before I made out exactly who I was talking to… and once I realized it was Raven, I regretted the tone I'd used.

Still wearing the outfit from the day before, Raven tapped his foot impatiently, his right hand holding a pair of grey, limp fish by their tails. "It's morning." He informed me curtly, tossing the catches into my lap. "You're the cook. Make breakfast." Though somewhat surprised at getting two fish thrown at me, it actually wasn't as bad as I'd expected; probably because all the water had either dripped off or froze. No, what surprised me was I was actually still here, and without even thinking about it, my heart started to beat faster and faster, face dropping in shock as these events fell into one simple conclusion.

Last night hadn't been a dream. It was real, and so was this.

Suffice to say, I slowly started to shift into panic mode, fingers tightening around the edges of the rough spun blanket I'd fallen asleep under, unable to come to terms with the impossible. "What the blazes…" I breathed to myself, face flushing. "This can't be… it's impossible." Raven's eyebrow arched up in curiosity as I continued, but my vision slowly faded into a tunnel, a light pounding in my temples. "I mean, this isn't real, this world isn't real, you're not real!" My eyes looked up accusingly, wide with dilated pupils, the light from the rising sun giving Raven's figure a sort of cornea. "But… you can't fall asleep and wake up in a dream. Or can you? Am I under? Drugged? Wouldn't I know? This is just…"

Raven, after watching me ramble, had rolled his eyes and leaned over, a sharp backhand landing on each of my cheeks in quick succession. It felt like I'd just been punched, solid as they were, but the stimulation broke me out of my panic, though I was still a bit light-headed from not taking a breath for so long. The sensation of that strike was far too real for me to ignore, and while intellectually I wasn't sure, I was calming down enough that I could actually make out the room around me. I was lying under a tent of longs, the sacks from last night placed next to one another just to my side, Raven crouching just a little so he could fit under the low roof. Raven, Raymond, rightful heir of Cornwell, in the flesh. He looked at me half as though he thought I was crazy, half with stern command and, after a few deep breaths, enough of the emotion ebbed that I could pick up the fish, slidding away to the other side of the shelter. "I'll just go get started then," I stuttered apologetically before slipping around the opposite corner, still in my pajamas.

It was no longer snowing, he sun about halfway over the horizon when I got out, straightening out my bedhead as I carried my ingredients over to remnants of the fire, the logs from last night existing only in broken fragments. I tried not to think on the world around me, focus on the food, and slowly, but surely, I managed to do that. The cover was removed from the fire pit for me to toss in a few more logs. By turning over the cover, a concave piece of metal meant to keep the wind and rain out, I was able to use it as a large bowl,. My thoughts turned back to all the ways I'd prepared fish in the past, images of cabin cookouts and salmon attaching themselves to vague recipes. Raven was nowhere to be found when I crawled back into the shelter to grab a knife, a bone-hilted piece I'd picked up as loot yesterday, scaling both fish as I though back kindly to summer's days with my uncles, talking and hooking sunnies. Having the flesh frozen was actually a godsend when I got to the gutting; ordinarily, the feeling of the gushy organs was gross but, frozen, it was like picking up rocks, which I tossed into the pan in hopes of frying. I did run into some difficulty with the fire, but eventually I managed to get the rocks to spark, the fire breaking on the surface of my bowl, the hiss of melting ice steaming off music to my ears.

I used a longer stick to stir the guts around, the smell not nearly as bad as one might think it would be, the fat and oils ozzing out as the heated up. Right now, I didn't have a care in the world; it was just me, my fish, and my fire, the savory smell stimulating my brain. It was even better after I added the actual flesh, flipping both fish over every so often to shallow fry them, the meat slowly darkening, sizzles and pops going off in what sounded like a comforting pattern. Just doing something routine and simple helped relax me, the fingers of my free hand pressing down what felt like some bad bed hair.

However, the illusion could not last forever, and was soon broken when I spotted Raven coming back into the campsite, bundles of dead branches under both arms and a hatch in one, dumping them alongside the woodpiles before sitting down next to me, taking a deep smell of the fish. "Smells different." He commented, looking down into the bowl. "But I like it."

I was able to take the compliment in stride, flipping over both fish and checking the color. It was almost perfect, a darker brown, nearing chocolate, but only on this side. "I'm frying in its own oils." I explained. "Most people just toss out the guts, but the oil is actually pretty good for you. "

"Interesting…" Raven nodded to himself. "I'm sure it'll be good eating."

And a few minutes later, I proved him right, as the hum of contentment from both our mouths could testify too, the meaty taste pleasant on my tongue. "You are quite the cook." Raven admitted, not even seeming to be bothered by the hotness of the meal, which forced me to eat slower than my stomach wanted me to. "Is this your trade?"

"It's more of a hobby," I answered without thinking, just before taking another bite, biting into a small bone I must have missed. For a few moments, neither of us said much of anything, Raven finishing off the last of his ration and looking up, his face perked.

Quickly, he stood up, looking to the sky as he drew his blade. Not quite sure what to do, I followed his lead, placing my half-eaten fish in what was left of the snow and fumbling for the scaling knife, holding directly in front of myself like the amateur I was. Sure enough, now that I was listening, I could hear it too; you would have had to have been deaf not to. It sounded like one of those air bazooka things; something pushing a lot of air very quickly, and underneath, something that sounded faintly like talking. "Raven…" I whispered, drawing a errked stare. "What is that?"

The look he gave told me all I needed to know, and I quickly shut up, looking through the break in the trees towards the sky. The thumping grew stronger and stronger overhead, Raven's sword sliding out and onto his shoulder, muscles poised for combat, myself suddenly feeling very, very small. My body tightened, the sound almost directly above us; and then we saw it. Six or so white horses seemed to soar over us, angelic wings beating at their sides, and on each of their backs looked like some sort of rider; I didn't get a close enough look to really make any of them out, though. I looked back at Raven, trying to gage the professional's reaction, and with a gesture from his head, he set off in the direction they were flying, walking slowly enough so that I could keep up. "What was that?" I asked as Raven pushed through the brush, me following in his path.

"Ilian Pegasus Knights," He stated intently, using his sword to cut through a particularly stubborn branch. "A Battle Wing of them; far too many for scouting. Something's wrong." Of course, I diden't ask anymore questions; I was too busy keeping up with him as his pace steadily increased, shifting into what could have been a slow jog, moving with the same level of ease as he had before.

As we walked, I felt strangely odd about the silence in this woods. To me, forests were supposed to have small mammals, buzzing bugs, birds in the trees, or at least the rustle of leaves. But, there wasn't any of that; many of the trees were bare, except the evergreens which seemed to be slowly crowding out the others, and most birds had long since moved south, away from the cold weather. Still, because of that silence, I could make out another noise in the distance; something that reminded me all too much of the previous night. "They're bandits, aren't they?" I forced myself to ask, realizing how cold it was away from the fire.

"More like mercenaries," he sounded a bit surprised, turning back and giving me a condescending glance. "But they can LEAD us to bandits." With that, he turned away once again, the sounds of battle growing louder and louder, before, finally, we started passing by trails sided by clean stumps, and a noticeable thinning in the trees.

Before we got too close, however, Raven held out his hand, stopping me in my tracks. Though the last of the thicket, I could look over Raven's shoulder and see a large cluster of log cabins set up alongside a small stream, three of which were already on fire and forth lit before my eyes, courtesy of a thick, heavily bearded fellow in a red-furred coat. A man had been on top of that house, a simple woodsman in a hide jerkin , a bow in his hands as he backed away from the encroaching fire in vain, trying to fire an arrow at his attacker. Only a few other men were not actively attacking, gathered together in front of one of the cabins, bearing wood axes and hunting bows, trying to hold back the tide of bandits which assaulted them, screams of pain and unheard orders blotting out any rhyme or reason. If Raven hadn't been standing between them and me, I might have ran then and there, and even now my feet still itched with the desire to get away.

In fact, Raven had my arm locked in his free hand, just to make sure, looking up to the sky. Between the thumps of iron on wood and the screams of pain, I did catch the occasional beating wing; clearly, the knights we saw earlier. Raven continued to watch, not even showing the slightest hint of disgust or curiosity; just hard eyes. He was bidding our time, it seemed; waiting for the Battle Wing to land. And, sure enough, they did, both sides momentarily distracted and the horses, as white as the snow they landed on, glided into the village, six women locks six lances to their sides as charged the bandit's archers, impaling a few on their tips before shaking them off, leaving them to bleed out in the snow.

After the first round, the pegisi made a powerful flap of their wings, trying to gain height for another run. The attacking bandits; at least I thought they were bandits, judging from the attire, quickly drew back from shooting at the defending villagers, aiming what bows they had left up at their flying assailants. I felt Raven's hand leave me as he jumpted out, taking advantage of the opening to make a slice at one of the bandit's who was retreating from melee, the pain causing him to drop his ax. The villagers seemed to take heart as well, advancing slowly, now with some sense of purpose, the archer having leaped down from the roof to join them, falling into a pile of snow to cushion himself. Slowly, I crept back, hiding behind one of the tree trunks, peaking out just enough so I could get an idea of what was going on.

Then, I saw him; Yellt. At least, he looked like the bandit from yesterday, standing between the Pegasus Knights and he archers, his ax looking newly sharpened and dripping with blood. Only then did I hear the distressed whinne of one of the pegasi, his ax coming into contact with it's neck, the beast spilling to its side and sending the rider, a green-haired girl who couldn't have been more then 17, tumbling to the ground, her lance awkwardly slapping her as she lost her grip of it, another attacker charging forward and planting an ax in her chest before she could recover from the daze.

It was chaos; utter chaos. That was really the only word to describe it. Villagers fell, bandits fell, arrows and axes and the occasional glimpse of Raven's sword all mixed together in something that can't truly be described. The bandit's had been ready for the second run, after seeing Yellt's example, and proceeded to copy it and, while it diden't work for everybody, after a few runs, and with one of the pegasi dropping from being pin cushioned with arrows, only one of the knights was left standing; fighting from the ground like a normal cavalrywoman, dressed in a black tunic, miniskirt, and a white headband around her dark blue hair, trying to keep enough distance with her lance so she wasn't vulnerable. I moved from tree to tree, not wanting to be seen, slowly making it so the main force's back was too me, my knuckles white as I gripped my knife hard. Yet, I couldn't stop myself from looking; it was still fascinating, disorganized and deadly as it was. Raven was truly a god among men out there, though, darting in and out of single combat, slowly widdling away the forces and working his way back towards me. I silently hopped for his success, and success and general, though the last thing I was going to do was enter the fray myself.

Slowly, though, the battle seemed to turn for the villagers, surrounded by death, the bandit's ranks started to break, more than a few darting off into the woods. Of course, as luck would have it, one of them ran off in my direction, and suddenly I stopped breathing, everything seeming to slow down slightly as he approached, not paying attention to his sides. Without training, I didn't know how to handle the instinct that was flaring inside my brain at the site of that ax; the urge of fight now a valid option as the weight in my hands testified. When he passed, I just couldn't help myself; I flailed out with all the speed I could, stabbing at his face and chest, his face turning into a grimace of surprise and revenge. I swung around the tree as he tried to bring his ax around in an arch but, as luck would have it, the blade planted itself deep into the tree trunk with a sharp thud, but not before my senses deserted me and I ran in whatever direction would get me away fastest; which ended up being around the edge of the battlefield.

By this point, though, the attack was nearly broken, and the men all calling out for a full retreat. Though there were still howls of pain, the sound of killing had stopped, me having my hands in the air as I ran in, dropping the knife and running to Raven's side. Only then did my thoughts return to being my own.

The surviving villagers, the blue-haired woman, and Raven were all starting to come together around the central cabin, those which had been on fire now collapsed in on themselves. So, obviously, I followed, staying as close to my protector as possible as one of the villagers; an elder man with a greyish beard and drooping face, came up to Raven and the girl, bowing gratefully.

"Thank you, kind strangers." He told them, somewhat breathlessly. "We're not sure we could have lasted much longer if you hadn't aided us." The other villagers spread out, gathering their wounded comrades, women and children slowly looking out from windows and hesitantly opening doors, some carrying food, cloths, or medical supplies.

Raven responded how I would have expected him too; with cold indifference. The girl though: she seemed familiar, but my mind was running too wild to think about it, gave more of an enthusiastic grin. Yet, despite this, I was surprised to hear both of their responses were exactly the same, at exactly the same time. "Just doing the job I was paid for, sir." The way she seemed to cheery about it, and Raven so moody, was actually a bit eerie, and those two and the elder seemed to notice it too, the conversation temporarily stalling.

"Even so," The elder finally broke the silence, giving a sincere smile. "It means a great deal that you put yourself in harm's way for us. If there is anything we can do to repay you, you need only ask."

Raven looked out onto the battlefield, watching as the fit men and women gathered up the wounded. Thankfully, I seemed, most of the men were still moving and, while injuried, most of it appeared it appeared to me to be flesh wounds. But, what did I know about medical science? "Look after the wounded for us." Raven instructed the man, his voice carrying forlorn nobility. "The Count gives us all the reward we need." I was kind of weird to hear him referring to me as part of the group… but, I suppose, I had been involved somewhat.

"Yes," I quickly agreed with him, bowing in respect. "You'll have a hard enough time rebuilding as is."

The girl, however, wasn't so shy in requesting her reward, responding almost immediately after I was done. "Well," she tried to sound modest, but it was pretty clear to me she wasn't. "Money is important. If I don't have any, my weapons will rust. And I can't fight without my weapons."

Little did anybody else notice, but I saw a small boy look up at her with awe at those words, and couldn't help but giggle silently at the thought that popped into my head, Though I was quickly silenced by a curious glance from the girl. I defiantly didn't want to explain that joke to anybody else. Besides, now I knew whom I was dealing with

"Well," the elder responded apologetically. "We're just a poor lumber town. We don't normally carry large sums of gold." The old man's fingers began twiddling worriedly. "Certainly not enough to pay for an entire Wing. But I suppose…"

"Well," I chimed in, an idea suddenly popping into my head. "Why don't we just put her on our contract?"

Raven looked at me with some concern, finally remembering to slide his sword away. "Explain," he commanded the girl and elder listening just as closely.

"Well, Count Reglay is a rich man, and this town IS technically on Eturian soil." I pointed out, keeping a confident poise though I knew I had pretty much no idea what I was talking about. "I mean, I'm sure he'd be willing to pay a little extra gold for protecting an entire village, especially for the famed Stormwings." I looked at each face separately, but thankfully met with three looks of understanding. I congratulated myself inside for my bluff there, and the woman gave a strong nod.

"That works for me, solider." She offered out her hand for a shake. "I do need work while my companions are recovering from their injuries, after all. Your Count has just bought the services of Farina, member of Ilia's 3rd Wing." I took her hand and shook it solidly, finally glad to have been of some use.

Raven didn't protest, taking her hand afterwards. "Well, you did well." He observed. "I'm Raven, and this is Traton, my cook. Welcome to the team." The last part came out somewhat resentfully, but it didn't show on his face.

With that, it seemed we had a deal; and, with two warriors at my side, I felt more confident in my chances of surviving this crazy world.


End file.
